


take me home, chicagoland (we're running out of time)

by romanovaly



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, and everyone else from chf at least once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanovaly/pseuds/romanovaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she’s learned a thing or two over the years, the biggest lesson being that home isn’t a place, it’s who fills up the space with you. (au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	take me home, chicagoland (we're running out of time)

**Author's Note:**

> a pre-season four dawsey fic on the eve of the premiere, take this with a grain of salt my friends. this fic has been sitting half written on my hard drive since the finale aired. i've added to it as we found out bits and pieces about the new season, but it's totally and completely au.

take me home, chicagoland (we’re running out of time)

_Where thou art - that - is home_ **emily dickinson**

. &.

She moved into her first apartment junior year of college. It was a little three-bedroom place in Evanston split between five girls and always overflowing with makeup, frat boys, and alcohol. She stayed there until she graduated from Northwestern and headed back to the city with her fancy degree and big dreams of medical school.

It wasn’t her first home. No, that will always be the two-flat on the border between Hermosa and Logan Square, where the wooden slats creaked every time she snuck out of the house. Where it always smelled like her mother’s favorite tea and the smoke of her father’s cigarettes hung in the air. Her first home was where her brother taught her how to ride her bike and throw a perfect punch, her mother whispered the secrets of the world into the shell of her ear after the first boy ever dared to break her heart, and her father perched her on his knees and explained every single rule of Cubs baseball.

But, she’s learned a thing or two over the years, the biggest lesson being that home isn’t a place, it’s who fills up the space with you.

She stands outside of her apartment, or what _was_ her apartment, as the white and blue lights from the squad cars flash on the dark street, an eerie billboard for all of the neighborhood to know that something’s happened, that all is not right on their quiet city block.

She remembers sitting at the old oak table in Matt’s old house, the same one that they had wrapped in plastic and placed in a moving van over a year ago, the same one that stands in the apartment now, its legs splattered with blood. They had been arguing because her lease was almost up, he had put up the two-story on the market just over a week ago and was already getting offers, but they still hadn’t found a new place to live.

Gabby had randomly picked three places, completely ignoring the piles of options they had accumulated.

They had toured each place after shift and she had made a look of distaste at the first two, regretting ever being so cavalier about their first home together, when the real estate agent opened the door to the last one and she had breathed a sigh of relief. This, _this_ they could make _theirs_.

She never thought that six months later she’d be moving out, leaving behind the one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. 

 —

_Family._

It’s how she gets past his doorway while everyone else crowds Chicago Med’s waiting room. 

They had forgotten, in the mess of the last year, to ever formally change their medical forms. So when she and Severide run up to the nurses’ station, concerned and worried and overtired from the last seventy-two hours, it’s an attending that she recognizes by face from hundreds of ambulance calls who hands her a clipboard and asks for Matt’s medical information because _you’re his fiancee, right? That’s what it says under emergency contact._ Gabby doesn’t blink, doesn’t argue or correct because she’s selfish and needy and in the moment, it’s her only guaranteed way to see him. She takes the forms, sits down between Kelly and Otis and across from the Chief and numbly fills out information she memorized years ago.

_No visitors, right now. Sorry, guys._

Doctor Halstead looks apologetic, as he takes in the crowd of first responders, all worried for their lieutenant and friend. He glances down at the clipboard in front of him, giving a laundry list of injuries Matt sustained. There’s nothing too troublesome, Gabby’s mind automatically categorizes the bumps and bruises and fractures by paramedic standards. But, numbers and facts do nothing to ease the worry in heart or quiet the _what-ifs_ floating around her head.

Kelly pushes her forward and she’s walks, disoriented. He keeps an arm at her elbow, Cruz and Otis and Herrmann flanking them, the rest of Fifty-One standing in solidarity.

“Family’s allowed, right Doc? She’s his fiancée. I’m sure he’d love to see her when he wakes up.”

Halstead looks around the group and Gabby clears her throat, nervously playing with the chain of Shay’s necklace. “I don’t wear it on the job, don’t want it to get ruined.

She’s practically shaking her she stands and Halstead nods, waving her through. “April will point out the room for you.” He glances back at the rest of them, “He’ll be fine, okay? You guys can drop by tomorrow when we have him settled into a permanent room.”

Kelly leans down, “Hey, I’ll be here when you want to go home okay?” 

She nods and fumbles with her cell phone, “His sister, Christie, her number’s in there. I told her I’d call when we found him and…” 

“I got it,” he stills her hands.

“Thanks, Kelly.”

“Tell him we got his back, alright,” he says. She smiles slightly and waves at the rest of Fifty-One before following April past automatic double doors.

_Cross my heart._

It whispers in her mind as she pushes open the door to his room. He’s way too pale, laying in the hospital bed, with bruised knuckles and a split lip and all sorts of cuts and bruises that map out what happened to him. She gently runs a hand through his hair, presses a kiss to the crown of his head, before settling in the chair beside the bed, loosely threading her fingers with his.

“He’s pretty sedated. I don’t know when he’ll wake up. Do you want anything? Water, coffee?” asks April, hovering at the door.

“Water, thanks,” she replies.

Doctors move in and out of the room as the night goes on, she doesn’t really know how much time passes. Christie drops by with Violet briefly. Antonio and Voight stop to check in. Someone eventually takes pity on Severide and brings him back to stand vigil with her. It’s pushing five in the morning when his eyelids finally flutter open and a grimace of pain makes its way across his face.

Kelly immediately goes to find a nurse, while Gabby rushes to his side. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re at Chicago Med,” she says, clutching his hand.

He stares up at her, his eyes cloudy from the drugs. “Told you I’d be fine." 

She chokes back a laugh as she presses a quick kiss to his lips, “You just didn’t want me to beat up Antonio.”   

— 

Matt and Sylvie bond over the strangest things. 

He drops by her place distracted and moody, but she doesn’t say a word. He’s had an attitude for weeks since Voight dropped by the firehouse and unceremoniously told him that the DEA was taking over the case and _thanks, but there’s nothing more for you to do_. 

Her, Chili, Brett, and the new candidate were having a night in when he shows up. They finish dinner and she pretends to look the other way as he checks his phone for the thousandth time that night. She makes no effort to address the elephant in the room; instead, they only stew in their own annoyances together.

Sylvie notices the growing tension and quickly intercedes with a competitive game of Apples to Apples and alcohol.

Gabby declines the drink and cleans up the kitchen, listening to the group quickly talk over one another as the stakes grow higher. It ends with Chili the winner and all of them well on their way to drunk. She’s laughing at the antics, at the way the newer half of Fifty-One has managed to loosen up their straight-laced lieutenant and she briefly wonders when she passed from part of the young group to one of the more seasoned veterans.

Matt follows her onto the back porch when the game starts breaking up, he braces against the wooden railing and she sits on the stairway that connects their apartment and those above them to the ground level. He offers her a sip of his beer and she shakes her head.

“I can’t drink,” it slips out. She doesn’t intend on telling him in that moment, when she’s still aggravated at his earlier actions over the Nesbitt case and he’s just north of tipsy.

 “What?" 

She looks up at him, his breath making a white cloud every time he exhales from the cold; his eyes shine blue in the moonlight. She looks up at him and thinks that she can say this, that _they can do this_.

“I’m pregnant.” 

—

“We should find a place.”

She’s in the middle of bringing her sandwich up for another bite when he speaks. She contemplates stuffing the food in her mouth before slowly lowering it back onto her plate and waiting for him to elaborate. When he doesn’t, when he just looks at her, eyes wide, she realizes how serious his intentions are.

“What?” he asks exasperatedly. “That extra bedroom isn’t big enough and anyways we shouldn’t kick out Severide and yours and Brett’s place is even smaller. We should get a place that’s just ours. We need a house, with an actual backyard and all of that.”

She stays silent, gnawing at her bottom lip.

It’s been _so good_ these last few weeks, this limbo that they’ve been living in. But, he’s saying _us_ and _we_ and _ours_ and she’s _so, so, so_ scared of what will happen if it all comes crashing down. Looking for a house, hell, buying a house is a commitment beyond wearing his ring again. And she’s been brave, she’s held her head high and tried to do everything right since she walked out, but she doesn’t know if she’s brave enough for this. For the possibility that not even a second chance will save them.

Matt latches onto her growing hesitation with frustration.  

“I think we should wait on it, we have time. We can always live in the apartment for a few months after the baby’s here after all,” she tells him. 

“Why are you avoiding this?” 

“I’m not! I just think we have other things to worry about first. Or, are you done playing cop with my brother?”

He leans back in his seat; away from her and the sucker punch she just delivered.

“Well?” They’re making a scene, she knows it, right in the middle of the firehouse where all their friends can see. 

“That has nothing to do with this Gabby. And don’t worry, it’s being handled by the feds now, remember? Stop trying to change the subject.” 

She huffs out a breath and pushes away from the table, leaving the common room and heading onto the apparatus floor. She needs to hear it from him. She needs to know that this isn’t just _good guy Matt Casey_ who’s checking all the right boxes because it’s what’s expected of him and because he’s wanted a baby for _so long_.

There’s a fire in his eyes as he stands in front of her, crowds her space and forces her to look up to see his face.

“It’s just that — I’m not expecting anything!” she shouts. “You’re acting like this is happening a year ago and when we slept together it was supposed to be a one night stand.”

She catches the betrayal that flashes across his face before he can mask it and feels her heart drop to the floor. 

“Is that what you think of me?” His voice is hard and hurt and there’s an ocean growing between them again. “That I’m only doing this because I _have_ to?”

Tears are gathering in the corner of her eyes and she knows that if she starts talking, she’ll just cry harder so she shrugs and looks away to find the time. “I should go, get back to headquarters.”

“No, you’re not leaving until we actually have a talk about —” the chime of alarm bells cut him off and she watches as he kicks at the stool next to the equipment bench. “This isn’t over,” he warns and she just nods, disappearing back into the house to grab her bag and the rest of her lunch. 

—

Boden drives her to the hospital. He had shown up at her desk, eyes downcast, and she already suspected the worst, a hand unconsciously falling to her stomach. It only figures the next time Matt played hero would be after their first argument as a (kind of) family.

He’s perched on a hospital bed, one of Chicago Med’s residents, Doctor Choi, checking his vitals. He seems fine, but she gives him an once-over, anyways, grabbing for his chart at the end of the bed and skimming through it. 

Choi moves to remove his gloves, “You must be the girlfriend?”

She reaches out a hand, “Gabriela Dawson. Hope he hasn’t been too terrible a patient.”

“Just some worry about smoke inhalation and aggravating a recent fracture of his radius. He should be all good to go after we get a quick x-ray.”

“Thanks,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear and moving further into the room. Boden’s already left back to the firehouse, it’s just the two of them. She settles on the edge of his bed, running a hand down his uninjured arm.

There’s silence for a while until, “I’m sorry." 

They both say it. They both mean it. He grabs her hand and squeezes tight. “If it’s too fast, we can wait. We can wait on a place.” 

“No, I just jumped to conclusions. I just — it’s like this crazy dream and I keep expecting to wake up and I don’t know, not have you by my side again."

He moves his hand to her cheek, forcing her to look into his eyes, “I love you. Always have, baby or not. I’m not just gonna pack my things up, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiles and nods, leaning into his cheek. “For the record, i love you, too. Even when you decide to play hero off the aerial.”

—

Severide ambles into the kitchen late one morning when she's spread house listings all over the table. Matt left hours ago to a construction gig on the west side of the city and Gabby long abandoned arson files for down payment options. Kelly meanders from the cabinets to the fridge, pulling out a box of cereal, bowl, and carton of milk respectively before settling at the table with her, brow furrowed in curiosity.  

"Where're you guys looking at?"  

"Lincoln Park, Ravenswood, Lake View." 

He hides a smirk behind a spoonful of Cap'n Crunch, "How's Case feel about moving north?" 

Gabby scoffs and rearranges a pile of papers, "He'll get over it. I refuse to raise our kid blocks away from where my brother routinely performs drug busts." 

They sit in silence for a while, Severide throwing in his opinion every so often, jabbing at the air with his spoon. She thinks she’ll miss it, when they finally move, the camaraderie that exists from waking up to find Kelly sitting at the breakfast bar, the Sun-Times and a cup of coffee at his elbow. It’ll be different going from living in the bachelor pad of Chicago to building a home with one person.

—

She stops by Fifty-One with a file in hand and betrayal in her heart. Otis and Cruz spot her first, waving in greeting as they wait for her to reach the apron. The rest of squad is sitting at table, Severide and Capp and tony and the (no longer new) captain. Ambulance 61 is missing from its usual spot and she remembers how little down time she and Shay were afforded during shifts compared to the rest of the house. She walks past the common room where Borelli and Herrmann and Mouch sit watching the Bears game and heads towards the District Four offices.

This is the first time her new job is making her the lead investigator, it only figures it’d be when the house in question is her home.

Boden gestures her into his office with a grim look and Matt stands behind her chair. They hear her out, never interrupting, never interjecting. But, the frown on the Chief’s face grows deeper and Matt sighs heavily the longer she presents her case.

She follows Matt out of the office, down the hallway, and all the way into his quarters. She doesn’t move as he closes the blinds and locks the door, but she can feel it when he wraps his arms around her, hands resting on her slight bump, and leaning his head on her shoulder.

Five minutes, that’s all they can really take she knows. So, she closes her eyes and sighs, letting the tension of the day leave her body.

“The guys’ll understand,” he whispers into her neck in between gentle kisses. “It’s your job now, they get it. Boden gets it. Hell, I get it. And you’re doing a damn good job, baby.” 

“I just feel like I’m falsely accusing the house.”

“Well, maybe you are. But, maybe there’s some truth to it, too. Who knows? That’s why there’s arson investigation, to figure it out for all of us.”

 Gabby shakes her head and laughs, turning in his arms.

 She puts in extra overtime that week. Some might say to make a good impression at her new job, but more because she needs to see Fifty-One’s name cleared of all suspicion. She walks into Molly’s the night after the good news with a smile on her face and a glass of water raised in celebration because even though arson has been good to her, Fifty-One will always be where she belongs. 

—

“Do you remember when we were kids and mom and dad would leave for a couple weeks in January to go back home and it was just the two of us?” 

Gabby glances over at her brother as he messes with the two by fours that Matt had dropped off at the gym earlier in the week.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Remember how you would go on for hours about how we were adults and that when you had a big house and a family you wanted it to be just like that?”

She smiles and laughs, “Yeah, i do.”

 Antonio looks up at her then and grabs a hand, squeezing tight. “I’m glad you’re getting your wish, sis.”

—

Fifty-One throws a barbecue in the last moments of fall. It’s hosted in Boden’s backyard and there’s beer and burgers and hot dogs and laughter and shouts and _family_. Everyone’s been hard at work and Herrmann had declared that everyone needed a break, immediately volunteering the Chief’s house for the venue.

She spends her time split between Donna and Cindy giving baby advice and catching up on the latest gossip from Chili and Sylvie.

Matt catches her eye throughout the afternoon, giving her smiles and, one time, rolling his eyes when Otis goes on a long-winded story. Most of the guys stop by the table she’s claimed once or twice. They ask about arson investigation, about Antonio, about the apartment hunt. She asks them about Fifty-One and potential girlfriends and their side jobs. She finds herself missing being a part of Fifty-One’s daily lives especially at those moments.

The Herrmann kids get her and Matt involved in a game of corn hole as the afternoon starts to bleed into sunset. The four oldest split themselves between the couple, Christopher’s only daughter immediately latching onto Gabby’s side. She laughs as Matt grows increasingly competitive and the two of them end up playing for almost an hour, eventually calling a draw.

Kelly settles down next to her when everything starts winding down. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, but he’s got an easy-going smile on.

“So, I was going through all the boxes I brought when I first moved in when I found this. You don’t have to take it, or anything, but, um, I think she’d want you to have it. You know, since we never actually got that whole insemination thing to work.”

He doesn’t say her name, but Gabby knows who he’s talking about and she can feel the tears pricking the corners of her eyes as he bends down to grab a small gift bag off the ground. It’s yellow color glows in the evening light and she holds it in her hands for a moment before reaching in. There’s a stuffed animal inside, a dog with floppy ears and plush fabric, and Gabby cradles it gently to her chest. It’s the last gift her best friend will ever give her and it’s the only one she’ll ever give to Gabby’s kid.

“I don’t need it,” she can hear the gruffness in Kelly’s voice. “I have so much of Shay’s stuff, I don’t know what to do with it. Records and books and shit that she left all over the apartment. I figure your kid deserves to have something of hers, so that they know who Shay was.”

The tears are streaming down her face as she gathers Kelly into a hug, “Thanks, Kelly. _Thank you_.”

—

They find a place right after the start of her second trimester. It’s a single-family house in Roscoe Village that needs a little bit of work, but for the price and location, Gabby forfeits her no renovation clause to her personal contractor. Matt spends hours looking over the building designs, pointing out how he’ll create her dream kitchen and where the baby’s room will be and how incredible their new home will be.

He gets the guys of Fifty-One to help him with the construction while she provides pizza and beer to all of them, calling out unhelpful tips as they tear down walls and rebuild water lines. Eventually, Otis gets removed from his post and he sits in the middle of the front room, the only part not being taken apart, watching the hockey game with her. 

The renovation project takes over a month and while Matt moves from room to room, fixing up what he can when he’s not on shift, Gabby enlists Chili and Sylvie and Kim and Erin to help her paint and gossip and keep her from going insane.

It’s early in the morning (or very late at night) when Matt pulls her out of bed and covers her eyes with his hands. She’s laughing at the antics, complaining that she’s tired and it’s cold and _god, baby couldn’t this wait ‘til like 10_?

He pokes her in the side and after a few more steps he stops abruptly. He moves his hands from her eyes to her stomach, resting them on the bump. He’s brought her to the baby’s room, where the windows are draped in gauzy white curtains that frame the twinkling skyline of Chicago. A crib stands off to the side, a bookshelf in the corner. The walls are painted a pale purple and there’s a big, bright rug covering the hardwood floor.

She spins in his arms and presses a kiss to his lips, her fingers tangling with his hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s perfect.”

—

It’s the middle of the night when she finds him in the baby’s room, sitting in the rocking chair he and Severide had constructed over a month ago. The baby’s nestled in the crook of his elbow, a tiny little thing compared to her daddy. They’re both fast asleep, the chair swaying back and forth the tiniest bit.

She knows she should wake him up, take the baby from his arms and place her back in the bassinet by their bed. His neck is going to be sore in the morning and she can already hear his complaints in the back of her head. Instead, she sneaks away to their bedroom and takes her phone off the dresser where it had been charging. She makes sure the ringer is on silent and the flash is off before snapping a picture, the two of them softly lit from the stand lamp still glowing brightly in the corner of the room.

She leaves them alone for another twenty minutes, cleaning up the wreckage that occurs around the house with a newborn, until she hears the baby’s soft cries. 

A few days later, she finds Matt staring at the latest addition to their wall of pictures, a smile on his face. She wraps her arms around him and presses her face into his shoulder, breathing in the comfort. 

He presses a kiss to her head and whispers, “Welcome home.” And it’s not her first home or her first house or even their first place, but with him and a sleeping baby upstairs, it certainly feels like the right place to call home.

  

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to see all the appropriate trash reactions to dawsey finding out they're gonna be parents on tuesday night come chill with me on [tumblr](http://gabrielaadawson.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/nikki_moscato)!


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